Sleep
by emmie7399
Summary: John's worrying over how much sleep Sherlock gets leads to an argument.


Monday. That one day of the week where things seem to go wrong. It had started first thing in the morning when John had gone downstairs, the sleep still in his eyes. Upon reaching the living room, he was greeted by the repulsive stench of urine. As he suspected, Sherlock was sitting at the kitchen table, eye glued to the microscope lens. John wandered into the kitchen and grabbed his favourite mug. "Tea?" he asked Sherlock, reaching into the fridge for the milk whilst swerving round various severed limbs and a couple human heads. "Yes" grunted Sherlock who had now turned to a Petri dish with some unknown substance in it. As John turned to look at the consulting detective, he noticed the large dark circles underneath his eyes. Oh great, he hadn't slept. Which meant only one thing; grumpy Sherlock, well, grumpier than usual. "Sherlock, what did I say about getting sleep? Do you realise how unhealthy it is to go for nights without sleeping? Honestly, one of these days you're going to.."

" Oh John, you do go on. If it hasn't occurred to you in the year we've know each other, I'm a grown man and I don't need to be told all the time, sleep isn't a necessity and lack of it doesn't make me any different to who I normally am".

" No, Sherlock, do you know what? It makes you even more of a whining, self opinionated, annoying arsehole. It doesn't take a genius to work that out" John yelled, storming out of the flat.

This had started becoming a regular thing, mainly due to Sherlock's refusal to understand that sleep is absolutely vital. And although Sherlock's stubbornness irritated John, he always still had that deep feeling of worry about his health. But every time John tried to show Sherlock how deeply he cared for him, he always got pushed away with a grunt or a 'I'm busy'. John started out admiring the man, seeing him as a hero, but those feelings had gradually developed into something even bigger. Love. John loved Sherlock. His flatmate, his colleague, his idol. None of it mattered, all John was sure of was that this man who insults him, who puts him down, who felt no emotion whatsoever had grown on him so much without him realising it to the point where he would lay down his life for the man. But he was still angry. After walking what seemed to be countless streets, John decided to go back to 221B, but he vowed he wouldn't back down no matter what. As he walked into the living room of the flat, he noticed a soft whimpering noise coming from somewhere. Sherlock's room. Quietly, he walked closer and closer until he could distinguish the noise as….crying?

Wait what? John tapped cautiously on the door, noticing the noise abruptly stop.

" What do _you_ want"? muttered the strained voice.

" Can I come in? We need to talk".

After a minute or so of silence, the door creaked open and stood there was a timid, tear stained Sherlock. Not one that John knew. Sherlock sat down on the bed, signalling for John to sit next to him, all the while John noticed that not once had Sherlock made any eye contact with him.

" Look, Sherlock, we need to get one thing.."

" I'm sorry.."

"...excuse me?"

" I said I'm sorry John.. I treat you appallingly most of the time and for that, well, I apologise.."

John had to try extremely hard not to allow the smug feeling he had appear on his face, Sherlock..apologise? He would never let this moment go. But as he looked at the man before him, his feelings of self satisfaction soon faded away. For the first time he had ever known Sherlock, he saw vulnerability. And without hesitation, without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around the man he loved and didn't let go. Not when Sherlock burst into tears, not when he nestled his head into John's shoulder. But when he said those three words.

" I love you."

John let go of him and looked deep into his eyes.

" I love you too Sherlock".

They lay back onto the bed, still wrapped tight in each others arms and as John leaned over to remind Sherlock of his feelings for him, he realised that he had fallen asleep in his arms. John rested his head back onto the pillow as the smug expression spread across his face.

" I win this round" he whispered to himself before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
